


The Beauty of Technology

by TheBashfulPoet



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: 4 things + 1, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, Detective!Bellamy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, basically all my ships, doctor!clarke, linctavia mentioned too, minty subtle but there, wicken mentioned, with a hint of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBashfulPoet/pseuds/TheBashfulPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Clarke start a war that neither of them knows how to end (or if they really want to)<br/>Or the 4 times Bellamy and Clarke switch each other’s ringtones and the one time they don’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beauty of Technology

**Author's Note:**

> Look what I have! Another Bellarke fic with one of my favorite themes! 4 times plus 1 more! What? Why no I shouldn't be working on my other fic... I know.. I'm terrible, but this idea has been bouncing in my head for weeks now! Hope you enjoy it! I'm off to work on Cracks in Our Armor now...
> 
> P.S. This is also my first time writing a smut scene, so please be brutal and tell me what you think! I'm always trying to improve
> 
> P.S.S. I made a playlist for this fic so go check that out [[here](http://8tracks.com/thebashfulpoet/the-beauty-of-technology)]

## 1.       Blake Residence

“Oh come, Clarke! Let me choose one!” Octavia whines from her seat on the couch.

            “Oh no.” Clarke extends her arms so her phone is out of reach from the young Blake, “The last time I let you pick a ringtone, I had to listen to _We are Never Ever Getting Back Together_ every time Finn called.” Clarke gives her a pointed look, “And he called every ten minutes.”

            Clarke had the misfortune of dating Finn Collins, a seemingly charming young nurse, who in every way perfect. Well minus the fact that he had a girlfriend. While he dated Clarke. It was safe to say that upon discovering him lip locked with the other girl (or perhaps _she_ was the other girl…) Clarke promptly ended it and drowned her sorrows in moonshine (curtsey of her best friends Monty and Jasper) and cookie dough ice cream. And that was the end of it, or so she thought. Finn, as it turns out, doesn’t know when to leave things alone and constantly called her begging her to come back. It took several threats and an actual punch to the face for him to finally back off. Clarke still couldn’t listen to the Taylor Swift song without cringing.

            Octavia huffs and settles back into the couch, crossing her arms in a pout, “It’s not my fault the boy couldn’t take a hint! The song was a perfect fit. Besides it’s _my_ boyfriend you’re choosing for.”

            “Be that as it may, you still lose your choosing privileges.”

            Octavia groans and pushes herself from the couch and pads over the kitchen where the older Blake was bent over the stove, a cookbook in hand. Now Clarke loved Octavia like the little sister she never had, ever since the day Octavia punched a boy flat on his ass after groping Clarke in a bar (he had a broken nose and everything. It was awesome), but Bellamy ('That’s B-E Double L-A-M-Y, Princess' as he so graciously told her upon their first meeting) Bellamy was a different story. Now Clarke prided herself on keeping her calm in any situation (she was a trauma surgeon for God's sake), but every time Bellamy would open his mouth (or even smirk in her direction) it would undeniably ended up with a screaming match between the two over god knows what (Octavia swears up and down that they argued about cheese once. _Cheese_!) But because they both loved Octavia, they suffered each other’s company from time to time, such as the weekly dinner Octavia demanded they have ever since graduating college (Octavia learned to keep the good china packed away at such events, due to previous incidents that she prefers not to talk about).

            “Bell! Clarke is being unfair!” Octavia whines into her brother’s back, her chin promptly settled between his shoulder blades.

            “It’s my phone!” Clarke defends from the couch.

            Bellamy turns around and absently pats his sister on her head, “Cheer up, O. Princess is just touchy after breaking up with Prince Charming.”

            “Prince Charming was a _dick_.” Clarke barks, but Bellamy just laughs.

            “Besides” he continues, “Who even puts custom ringtones anymore?”

            Octavia groans and pulls herself onto the counter next to him, “Are you serious Bell? Everyone does it!”

            He cocks an eyebrow at her, “And by everyone do you mean just our lame ass group of friends?”

            “I take offense to that!” Jasper calls from the front door.

            “Me too. I think we at least warrant _unique_.” Monty shrugs, as he places a bottle of wine on the island.

            “Hey Jasper. Hey Monty.” Clarke waves from the couch as she flips through her phone some more.

            “Hey Clarke!” they both greet and plant themselves on either side of her.

            “What are you two even arguing about?” Monty asks, throwing a glance between the two parental figures of the group. (Don’t ever let them hear you call them that though. Jasper made that mistake once. Bellamy tied him to a tree.)

            “Clarke is giving everyone custom ringtones, which is a waste of time, if you ask me.” Bellamy answers as he turns back to whatever he was cooking. (It was Chicken Parmesan, Clarke’s favorite.)

            “Bite me, Blake.” Clarke rolls her eyes.

            Jasper throws his head back in a laugh, “Oh that? Clarke’s been doing that for years! We all have one.”

            Octavia and Monty nod their head in agreement. “It’s true.”

            Bellamy shuts off the flame for the pan and opens the lid to the pot next to him, “Is that so? Everyone?”

            "That's the beauty of technology, Blake." Clarke wiggles her phone at him, "Everyone gets a personal touch."

            “Yup.” Octavia pops the “p.” “I’m _Girlfriend_.”

            Jasper grin and hikes his thumb towards himself, “ _Shots_.”

            Bellamy snorts, “Of course.”

            Jasper turns to Monty, clearly awaiting his response. Monty just rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath.

            “I’m sorry what was that Monty?” Jasper pushes, nudging him with his foot, “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

            “ _If a Nerd and a Cupcake had a Baby_.” Monty sighs, crossing his arms in annoyance.

            “Oh come on! That song is perfect for you!” Clarke defends.

            “It’s humiliating!”

            “Better than Jasper’s for you!”

            Monty scrambles to cover her mouth, “You swore you’d never speak of that!”

            Clarke pushes Monty off with a laugh, “I didn’t say anything!”

            “What are you all talking about?” Raven asks, as she closes the front door behind her.

            Raven was the newest addition to their little group of friends. No one really expected Raven to really fit in at first, as it turns out she was also Finn’s ex-girlfriend. (Yes the same one Clarke helped him cheat on. Good times.) Oddly enough after discovering that Clarke had no idea Raven existed, the two girls quickly bonded over their new found hatred for the long haired douche (as Octavia has so fondly dubbed him).  Raven found herself out a boyfriend but gained an entire family of delinquents (Jasper’s pick not theirs.)

            “Clarke’s ringtones for us all.” Octavia calls from the kitchen.

            “Oh that?” Raven plops down at Clarke’s feet, “Who are you picking for now?”

            “Lincoln.” Clarke mumbles as she swipes her thumb over the screen.

            “What’s yours?” Bellamy asks, genuinely curious as what Clarke would have chosen for their peculiar friendship.

            Raven smirks and tilts her head back, catching Clarke’s own mischievous grin, “ _I Love It_. After our most epic night when we first met.” (They may or may not have done some not so legal things that you could never prove in a court of law. One such thing, possibly including Finn’s car.)

            Clarke throws her head back in laughter, “Certainly not a thing a girl forgets!”

            The rest of the group joins in their laughter, when it dawns on Bellamy.

            “Wait,” He tilts his head, “You said everyone has one.”

            Octavia nods, “Yeah, she sets one up for every contact on her phone.”

            “So what’s mine?”

            Jasper and Monty snicker, but are cut off by Raven who promptly punches Jasper in the shin.

            Bellamy raises an eyebrow and rests his hands on his hips. (Jasper calls that his ‘Dad’ pose. He’s not exactly wrong.) “Well?”

            Clarke shrugs and stands from the couch, “It fits you.”

            “Really now?”

            Clarke nods, “Yup. It’s _Both Sides of the Story_.” Bellamy just stares at her as she settle on a stool at the island, “You know, by We are the in Crowd?”

            It’s Bellamy’s turn to shrug, “Never heard of them.”

            Octavia snickers and hops down from her spot next to him and joins Clarke on the island.

            “What?” Bellamy sighs.

            “Oh nothing.” She fiddles with the phone in her hand for a second.

            “Hey is that my phone?” Bellamy asks, reaching for the device he thought he left in his back pocket. (He did, Octavia is just a master thief.)

            “Mhmm.” She hums as she unlocks it. (The password was her birthday. Not very original.)

            “What are you doing?” He asks, but she just holds out a finger and  hits the call button.

            The room is silent until Clarke’s phone starts buzzing followed by a female’s voice singing:

_You’re not quite Satan, but I really think I hate you_

_You’re not quite Satan, but Iiiiii_

_You’re not quite Satan, but I really think I hate you_

            The room erupts into laughter, but Bellamy just slants his eyes in a glare at Clarke. “Very mature, Princess.”

            Clarke shrugs, “I think it fits.”

            “Ha. Ha.” He deadpans, “Well you can keep your silly little ringtones. I won’t be wasting my time with such trivial things.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes and hops off the stool and wanders over to the stove, “What’s for dinner?”

            Bellamy takes a step forward and cuts off her path, “For you, nothing.”

            Clarke crosses her arms, “Don’t test me, Blake. I just got done working a twelve hour shift at the hospital. I. Need. Food.”

            Bellamy smirks and crosses his own arms, “And that’s my problem how?” Clarke glares at him, but says nothing more. Finally he concedes and turns back to the stove, opening the lid to the pot and letting lose a huge cloud of steam. “Chicken Parmesan.”

            Jasper and Raven groan from the couch, “ _Again?_ ” (They swear they have it every week. Bellamy of course denies this. It’s every two weeks.)

 

* * *

 

            Later that night, Bellamy emerges from the shower. His hair is still dripping wet and his curls are twisting this way than that (a look he usually sported anyways, but it was always _too_ messy after a shower) He ran a hand through his hair, shaking free a few drops of water and flops down onto his bed. He sighs softly into the pillow and lets his muscles relax. It was a long dinner that had no less than two fights with Clarke (He doesn't care what she says, Star Wars will always trump Star Trek. No competition.)  With his body relaxed and the soft hum of Octavia's music floating in from her room, Bellamy found himself slowly falling asleep. Just as he was about to knock out, his phone buzzed against the end table. He groans and reaches for the phone, not bothering to remove his face from the pillow. Before he can yank the device off the table, an unknown melody starts playing.

_You're a jerk_

_I know_

_You're a jerk_

_I know_

_Jerk Jerk Jerk_

            Bellamy twist his head to glare at the screen, only to see quite an unflattering picture of Clarke (She was unceremoniously taking a huge bite of a slice of pizza and Bellamy couldn't resist capturing the moment.) Bellamy groans once more before hitting the accept call button.

            "What do you want, Princess." He grumbles back into his pillow.

            "I hope you liked your surprise."

            "Of course." He runs a hand over his eyes, "I wonder why I'm not surprised."

            Clarke laughs and Bellamy can't help but relish in it (It wasn't often he could get much more than a groan from the small blonde) A moment of silence falls over them and he just lays there listening to her steady breaths coming through the end of the line.

             "Hey Bellamy?" She asks after a moment.

            "Yeah?"

            "You're a jerk." He could practically hear the smile in her voice.

            "I know." She laughs. "Night, Princess."

            "Night Bellamy."

            "Just so you know, this isn't over."

            "Wouldn’t dream of it, Blake."

            He hangs up the phone and sets it aside once more. And if he fell asleep with a smile on his face, so what. He would just chalk it up to the devious plan he'd come up with to get her back. (And had absolutely nothing to do with the sound of her laugh echoing in his mind. Not at all.)

 

 

## 2.       Ark City Downtown Precinct

            It turns out getting back at Clarke was going to be a lot hard than Bellamy originally thought. To be fair, he spent most of his time actively _avoiding_ the tiny blonde whenever she would appear at his apartment  throughout the years (an occurrence that happened _way_ too often than he would have liked), but now that he actually needs to get close to her, he can't. Even their weekly dinners haven't been an option lately with the case he's been working on keeping him in the precinct every day and night. He hasn't even seen Octavia, besides the glimpses he gets before dragging himself into his room and to bed.

            He groans and slams his head on the desk. He's been at this for nearly two weeks and he still can't find a way to just get her alone…

            "You know every time you do that you lose what little brain cells you have." his partner (and best friend) Miller quips, while setting down a cup of coffee by Bellamy's head.

            "Thanks." he mumbles raising his head to take a sip of the delicious (and much needed) drink.

            "You know you're obsessed right? Like unhealthily."

            "Shut up."

            "No seriously, you've been at this for what like a week now?"

            Bellamy frowns into the cup, "Two."

            Miller scoffs and leans against the wall next to their desks, "This is sad, Bellamy. Truly sad."

            "I don't see you offering to help!"

            "That's because I'm not getting involved in whatever little mating ritual you and Clarke are doing this time." Miller takes a sip of his own drink, "I'll keep out of it, thank you very much."

            "We're not _flirting_. This is _war._ " Bellamy grumbles. A war he was going to win, if it was the last thing he did.

            "She changed your ringtone!"

            "She invaded my personal space!"

            Miller rolls his eyes, "You're ridiculous."

            "Are you going to help me or not?" He scowls at his partner.

            "No." Miller pushes him off the wall and plops himself in the chair opposite of Bellamy's.

            "Traitor."

            Miller throws a wad of paper at his head, "Shut up. We've got a case to crack."

            Reluctantly Bellamy takes another sip of his coffee before grabbing a stack of papers from the corner of his desk. _Maybe if he stopped by her apartment..._

 

 

* * *

 

            Turns out Bellamy would get his opportunity sooner than he expected.

            While tracking down a lead in their case (He and Miller had accidently stumbled upon a hidden stash of weapons while investigating an anonymous tip and currently were trying to find the supplier) they stumbled into a stand-off between two gangs, a group called Grounders and their rivals the Mountain Men. Guns were blazing and he and Miller hit the floor. After a while Bellamy couldn't even tell who he was shooting at any more, the only thing on his mind is staying alive and making it back to Octavia.  Making sure she didn't lose the only family she had left.

            _Your sister your responsibility. Your sister your responsibility. Your sister your responsibility._

            He repeated the mantra over and over until Miller shoves the nose of his gun down.

 "It's over." He pants, slumping to the ground and resting his head against the stack of crates behind him, "It's over, Bellamy."

            Bellamy's shoulders go slack and the gun falls to the floor. He lets go of the breath that he didn't know he was holding and goes to raise a hand through his hair. A sharp pain in his bicep draws his attention and his eyes are immediately drawn to the torn sleeve soaked in blood.

            "Shit." he curses gripping his arm trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood only seeps through his fingers.

            "Bellamy?" Miller looks up concerned, "Holy shit!" He springs up and grabs Bellamy's arm, applying more pressure to the wound. "Shit, Bellamy!" He reaches for his radio and calls in an ambulance, Bellamy would have protested, but god damn if getting shot didn't hurt (And he's pretty sure the bullet was still in there.)

            And that's how he find himself in the emergency room, with his shirt off and a pair of metal scissors (For the last time Bellamy, they are called _forceps_!) in his arm, and a very pissed off blonde doctor glaring at his wound.

            "Look, Princess…" He starts

            "Don't start with me right now, Blake." she growls, squeezing a little tighter on his arm

            "It's not like I went out and got myself shot on purpose!" He defends

            "Oh no?" She removes the scissors (Forceps!) from his arm, with what looks like the bullet casing, and slams it in the tiny tray next to them, "Then what exactly were you thinking going in there without back-up, Hmm? Because that sound pretty fucking stupid if you ask me!"

            "I _had_ back-up." He snaps, "Miller was there!"

            "Oh that makes me feel so much better, Bellamy! Two guys against twenty, I'm not sure why I doubted your abilities!" She spits back shoving a cloth against the open wound to stop the bleeding, "I've never met someone so _irresponsible_ in my life! What if something happened to you? What would Octavia-"

            "Don't you bring Octavia into this!" He growls standing up so he can tower over the small doctor, his eyes in a glare that has broken much bigger men than the 5'5" blonde.

            Clarke being Clarke, of course, wasn't deterred. She squares her shoulders and meets his glare with an icy one of her own. "I _am_ going to bring Octavia into this, because you know what? She could have lost you today! She could have lost the only family she had left, and then what?! You weren't thinking, Bellamy! Do you know how devastated Octavia would be? How do you think she would feel to bury her only living relative?!"

            "You think I don't know that?!" He screams at her, "I know!" He slumps back down on the bed, "I know." He runs a hand (the uninjured one) over his face, "I know." His voice barely registers over a whisper, but she hears it anyways.

            She settles down next to him and brings a hand to his face and gently guides it to face her own, "She can't lose you…" She pauses and his eyes meet hers in the silence, " _We_ can't lose you, Bellamy."

            He holds her gaze and sees the worry swimming behind her eyes, as well as the exhaustion that circles them in a purplish hue. His muscles relax and his eyes soften. He should have known that she would be worried. That's just who Clarke was.  Always caring about others, especially those she holds closest. He just didn't know he was included in that small circle. He didn't think he _deserved_ it after the way he treated her. (Let's be fair he could be a complete ass sometimes. Ok, all of the time.)

            "I'm fine, Clarke." He comforts softly, taking her hand in his and lowering it from his cheek, ignoring the ways he misses the contact once it's gone, "I'm _fine_."

            "No you're not!" He swears he can see the tears threatening to spill over, "You got _shot_!"

            He chuckles, "Careful, Princess. You sound like you care."

            She raises an eyebrow and lifts the cloth to see the bleeding having stopped (as well as a gunshot wound could anyways) "I do."

            Bellamy leans back, shocked. Sure he could tell she was worried, but that doesn't mean he was expecting her to openly admit it.

            "Don't act like it's such a big surprise, Bellamy." She reaches for a roll of bandage, "Of course I care. You're Octavia's older brother."

            "Oh." He deflates, but she places a hand on his arm.

            "You're also my friend." She reassures, as if she could sense his disappointment  (wait, why would he be disappointed? It's not like he cares what she thinks of-)

            "Did you just call me your friend?" He asks, her words finally sinking in.

            She laughs, wrapping the bandage around his arm, "Of course you're my friend. I've known you for how many years?"

            "But we're always arguing!"

            "And whose fault is that? You don't exactly make it easy to be your friend, Bellamy."

            "It takes two to fight, Princess."

            "See! My point exactly!"  She pins off the bandage, "Every time we have even a _little_ civil moment, you go and call me names."

            "Oh please you threw a dish at my head once for just entering the building!"

            "I wasn't aiming for you!" She pushes him lightly against the chest, "You just so happened to walk into my line of fire…"

            "Sure." He scoffs, but offers her a genuine smile. She smiles backs. They remain like that for a few moments before a knock at the door causes them both to turn their heads.

            "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Miller asks with a smirk on his face that clearly says he knows he is, "But Octavia is in the waiting room."

            "Oh!" Clarke jumps up and begins to collect her tools, "Just let me clean up and  I'll go let her know it's okay to come in." She takes  slips off her gloves and throws them in the tray, "All done." She picks it up and carries it to the door, "I'll be back with Octavia and then we can go over the aftercare and medication." She nods her head at Miller, "Nathan."

            Miller groans (She only ever calls him his first name when he's done something incredibly stupid and or dangerous), "Oh come on, Clarke! It wasn't my fault he got shot!"

            Clarke pats his arm, "But you forget that Monty is my best friend." she gives him a pointed look, "You gave him a heart attack. He could barely stand when he heard the news, let alone work."

            Miller winces at the mention of his boyfriend, "Duly noted."

            Clarke nods her head and disappears out the door and down the hall. Miller turns back to Bellamy to see a wide grin plastered on his face.

            "You look happy for someone who just got shot." Bellamy grin widens as he holds up something in his hand. Miller can't help but laugh, "You're fucking shitting me."

            In Bellamy's hands is Clarke's phone that he may or may not have stolen from her pocket when she wasn't looking. "Oh yes." He toys with his prize, "The war is on!"

            Miller scoffs, "You're insane you know that?"

            "An insane person, who's about to get their revenge." He hits the home button and he's greeted with her lock screen (a picture of Raven and Octavia) and swipes in her pass code (Really Clarke a 'C' can you get any more predictable?)

 

* * *

 

            It's late and the only thing Clarke want to do is kick off her stupid shoes and change out her stupid scrubs and into that overly large t- shirt she's pretty sure she stole from Octavia, who probably stole from Bellamy or Lincoln (Clarke really hopes it's the latter. That would be embarrassing  if it wasn't) and curl up on her couch and watch mindless television until she passed out. But no, she was stuck at the hospital for another… she looks at the clock on the wall, two hours. The emergency room has died down over an hour ago and Clarke was running out of things to do to keep her busy. Jasper and Monty had gone home hours ago after their shift ended and Wells was probably asleep by now.  Raven would most likely be up, but probably toying with one of her many electronics that littered their shared apartment. That or Wick was over. Clarke really hopes he isn't, she'd like to get _some_ sleep.

            She raises her eyes to the clock once again. An hour and 59 minutes. Great. She groans and rubs her eyes.

_Cause we're young and we're reckless  
We'll take this way too far and leave you breathless_

            Clarke snaps her head up to see her phone vibrating against the counter of the nurses' station."Funny. I don't remember putting that ringtone for anybody…" __  
  


_Or with a nasty scar  
Got a long list of ex-lovers_

            She carefully walks over and reaches for the phone. _Maybe Octavia changed someone..._ She wouldn't put it past her, it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

 __  
They'll tell you I'm insane  
But I got a blank space baby  
And I'll write your name

            She picks up the phone and turns it to see a picture of Bellamy sitting on his couch with his head thrown back in laughter. She hit the call button. Octavia must have changed his ringtone when she wasn't looking.

            "What do you want Bellamy?" She grumbles, more annoyed at Octavia than him really. (You don't mess with her phone ok?)

            "Geez, Clarke. Is that any way to talk to a patient?" He smirks (she can hear it, okay. There is rarely a time that boy isn't smirking. Well expect maybe when he's yelling, but that's another story.)

            "It is when they call you at, " she looks at the clock, "Two in the morning. What do you want?"

            "Did you like your new ringtone?"

            Clarke pulls her phone and glares at the screen, " _You_." she spits, "Bellamy Blake, you leave my ringtones alone!"

            Bellamy's laughter fills the other end, "Oh come on Clarke, you started it!"

            "Doesn't mean you go through a girl's phone! How'd you even get in?"

            "I've seen you put in your pass code a million times Clarke, by the way try and be a little more creative than a 'C,' it wasn't that hard."

            Clarke huffs and leans against the counter, "I'm going to get you for this."

            "Mhm, sure Clarke."

            "Wait." she pauses, "Did you seriously switch your contact ringtone to a _Taylor Swift_ song?" Clarke laughs, "This is golden. Big bad Detective Blake jams to Taylor Swift. I'm so telling Raven."

            "Hey! Don't knock Taylor! She's got some great songs."

            Clarke switches hands, "Uh huh, sure Bellamy."

            They both laugh and settle into a comfortable silence. Clarke looks at the clock once more to see that 10 minutes has passed. She does a quick sweep to see that the Emergency room was still empty, before sliding down and resting her back against the wall.

            "So is that all you wanted? Or do you actually have a reason to bother me this late at night?"

            "Were you sleeping?" He asks almost sheepishly, or a close as Bellamy Blake could come to being sheepish.

            "Nope, still at work actually."

            He clicks his tongue, "Ahh, late night then. When are you off?"

            "4."

            "Need a ride?"

            Clarke laughs, "I can get home by myself, thank you very much. Besides, you're on strict orders of bed rest."

            "I don't need two arms to drive."

            "Be that as it may, I can manage on my own."

            He chuckles at that, "Yeah I guess you can." They lapse into silence again.

            "Hey Clarke?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Thanks for today. You know, patching me up and all."

            "Don't worry about it, just doing my job."

            They fall in silence once again, but it's interrupted when the doors burst open followed by two EMTs rushing in with a gurney screaming for help.

            "Hey, I got to go!" She quickly picks herself off the floor and is rushing towards the two men.

            "Good luck." He says softly, "And Clarke?"

            "Yeah?" She's holding the phone between her shoulder, her hands busy pressing into a guy's stomach trying to stop the bleeding.

            "Be safe."

            "Always." She smiles and hangs up the phone and presses harder against the man's wound. "We need to go now!" She yells to the two EMTs.

***

            When Clarke would finally walk of the hospital hours later, she was greeted with a text from Bellamy.

**Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream**

Clarke can't help but laugh and type out a quick reply.

            **You're ridiculous.**

            His response is immediate

**Ridiculously awesome.**

**Go to bed, Bellamy.**

**You first**

**Well I need to get home first, but I plan to**

**Sure you don't need a ride?**

**I can wake Miller if the arm thing bugs you**

**Leave Miller alone. I can get back on my own**

**Good Night Bellamy.**

**Good Night Clarke.**

**You better not be walking home alone.**

**I will tell Octavia if you are.**

**I'm serious.**

**GOOD NIGHT**

            She shoves her hands in her pockets and walks out into the parking lot. She only lived a block away and she has done it a thousand times before. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket, but she ignores it. She ignores the smile on her face too.

           

## 3.       Ton DC Watering Hole

            "I can't believe he told Octavia on me!" Clarke slams down her glass, "I mean what am I five? I can take care of myself!"

            Monty raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his beer, "After the stunt you pulled?"

            "I'm _twenty two_! I can damn well walk myself two blocks home after work without a _babysitter_!"

            Jasper snorts, "Well maybe if you didn't walk alone in the dead of night, you wouldn't need one."

            "I am a grown adult!" Clarke argues throwing her hands up in the air.

            Honestly! Things had been going great the past few weeks, even Bellamy was hanging around more now that he was on medical leave until his arm healed, and they hardly fought! (Okay they still fought like cats and dogs, but it was always in a friendly kind of way.) In fact Clarke was finding herself enjoying the older Blake's company whenever Octavia would blow them off for Lincoln. They watched Netflix and argued over who was the best character in Sense 8 (For the last time Griffin, Sun kicks everyone's ass, no competition.) Bellamy would even send her annoying little texts about random historical facts and pictures of the food he is eating (because he is cruel and knows she rarely gets a chance to stop for a bite.)

            Of course Bellamy would have to go and ruin this all by calling Clarke one night after a particularly late shift. Her phone starting playing the now familiar beat of the Swift song and she picked it up without bothering to look at the screen.

            "Yes, Bellamy." Clarke yawns, "I swear if you are calling me to ask for the umpteenth time if you can have a beer, the answer is still no." (He was still on some medication for infection.)

            "That's not why I'm calling." he laughs

            "Oh? Then why are you calling me at…" she pauses, "What time is it?"

            He laughs harder, "Just a little after 2:30."

            "It's that late already?" Clarke lets out a chuckle and walks out of the parking lot, "Well now you _really_ better have a good reason for calling me!" They both laugh at that.

            "You just getting off of work?" He says after a moment.

            "Yup."

            "Need a ride?"

            She rolls her eyes. He's been asking her that every night since she patched him up. "No, Bellamy. I can get back on my own."

            "You better _not_ be walking."

            "I'm not." she lies casually. (What he doesn't know won't hurt him.) She turns the corner and continues down the street.

            "Really?"

            "I'm walking to my car as we speak…" (Well technically she wasn't lying. Her car was parked… _at home_.)

            "To your car, huh?" he asks slowly, and honestly that should have been her first sign.

            "Yes my car. You know the bright yellow bug, you're constantly telling me to take to the dump?" (So what if her car was old, it got the job done.)

            "You drove your car to the hospital…"

            "Mhm."

            "So you're walking towards it right now."

            Clarke stop in her tracks and stares incredulously at her screen, "That is what I said." Clarke laughs and turns the final corner onto her street. _Almost home_ , she can't help but smile in anticipation at a glass of wine and whatever food she could scavenge from the fridge. She reaches in her purse and starts digging for her keys.

            "Oh that's funny, because-" Clarke pulls free her keys and looks up to see Bellamy standing a few feet in front of her with his eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. "I'm staring right at you." _Shit_.

            What followed next was a long (and she means long) rant from Bellamy reprimanding her about her choice to walk home alone in the middle of the night and how _dangerous_  it was and didn't she even _care_ what could happen to her, because obviously she wasn't thinking. Clarke didn't even fight back, just stood there and nodded her head, because the last thing she wanted was to listen to Bellamy criticize her life choices because he had some over protective streak that he needed to fulfill. Just when she thought it was over, he fucking called Octavia (fucking _called_ her in the middle of the fucking night) to tell her that her friend was "recklessly endangering her life" and "needed to be stopped." Of course this lead to Octavia barging into her apartment in a few moments, which of course led to Raven waking up, which lead to Clarke having to listen to all three of them scold her.

            Clarke takes downs the rest of her glass and forcibly shoves the night to the back of her mind, "Fuck Bellamy." She slams the glass down again for emphasis, "And fuck the rest of them too."

            Monty and Jasper exchange nervous glances before taking another drink of their beers.

            "They just care about you, Clarke." Monty smiles putting a hand on her shoulder, "We all do."

            "Yeah!" Jasper chimes in, "Besides if something happened to you, who would drink us under the table anymore?"

            Clarke can't help but smile, "Still. They had no right to treat me like a child. _He_ had no right."

            "It's a cop thing." Monty shrugs.

            Both Jasper and Clarke tilt their head in confusion, "What do you mean?" Clarke asks.

            "Well, take Miller for example. He won't even let me take out the trash at night, always insists he do it himself, or just leaving it until morning." Monty elaborates, "Sure it can get frustrating at times, but then I remember he's a cop." Monty takes another sip and his eyes soften, "They see all kinds of horrible things everyday and I guess it's just hard to shake it off you know? Like they can't pretend everything is okay, when they've seen the worst society has to offer."

            Clarke nods her head, because she gets it. She _really_ does. Working in a hospital takes its toll on doctors too. All three of them have seen more than their fair share of tragedies and the victims of these criminals. Sometimes, Clarke just has to go home and cry herself to sleep at the image of those people. So, she gets it. But that doesn’t mean she isn't angry as hell for being treated like that.

            She glares into the bottom of her glass, "I guess you're right. I'm still not talking to them though."

            Jasper laughs, "Well you might have to." he nods his head in the direction of the door, "Because speak of the devil-"

            "And he shall appear" Monty finishes, following Jasper's gaze.

            "What are you two talking-" Clarke turns to the door, "about."

            Walking into the bar was none other than Bellamy Blake. He wasn't dressed in his usual dress shirt and slacks (he got cleared for duty a couple of days ago) but rather a white t-shirt with a worn leather jacket thrown over and his slacks replaced with a pair of jeans. His usual messy mop of curls was slicked back with gel, giving a clear view of his face and the freckles that dusted his cheek bones and traveled down his jaw.

            "Son of a bitch." Clarke growled, suddenly angry at herself for finishing her drink. She get up from her seat to go yell at him, when another person walking into the bar.

            Walking in behind Bellamy, was a tall slender woman with olive skin and long brown hair that tumbled down effortlessly and a lips that screamed to be kissed. (And if Clarke hadn't just seen her walk in with the last person she wanted to see, she might have tried.) The girls slides her arms through Bellamy's and wraps her hand around his bicep. Clarke's stomach twists at the sight of the contact. Even more when Bellamy wraps a hand around her waist and drags her towards the bar.

            "Damn, Bellamy's got game! Ow-" Jasper yelps, "Why'd you kick me Monty?"

            "Because you're a moron, you know that?"

            "What the hell is he doing _here_." Clarke spits

            "Looks like a date- OW! Monty!"

            Monty takes a sip of his beer, "Learn when to shut up."

            Clarke watches Bellamy from across the room. He's leaning closer into the girl now that they settled against the bar. He is whispering something in her ear and she giggled. Clarke can feel her stomach drop, but she chalks that up to the amount of alcohol she drank (which wasn't a lot).

            "Earth to Clarke!" Jasper waves a hand in her face, "You okay?"

            "Yeah," her eyes never leave, Bellamy, "Just thinking I need another drink."

            She takes a step towards the bar, when a hand reaches out and grabs her wrist. She follows the arm to see Monty with a small smile and a worried look in his eyes (Like he just _knew_ she was going to do something stupid.)

            "You want me to get it? My treat." He offers hopefully.

            Clarke just shakes her head and turns back to the couple, "No thanks. I can do it. You want anything?" Jasper opens his mouth, ready to order when Clarke cuts him off, "No? Okay, I'll be back in a bit."

            She stalks off to the end of the bar, careful to remain out of sight to both Bellamy and his date, though she's pretty sure neither of them can see anything besides the other's noses. (Why the hell were they so close together anyways?) Clarke flagged down the bartender and ordered a gin and tonic. Within a few moments the bartender slid over the drink and she slapped down a few bills. Instead of heading back to her table, (like she was supposed to) Clarke leaned against the bar and watched the couple more intensely.

            The girl had stopped whispering into Bellamy's ear, more in favor of her drink, but still remains glued to his side. Bellamy is fully leaning on the bar, with his elbows propping him up so he can face at her, but Clarke can't really see him from her angle. (She assumes he's got his signature smirk on his lip and his eyes slightly hooded. His pupils were probably starting to dilate, either with lust or because of the mediocre lighting. Clarke ignores the clenching in her chest at the thought of the first. ) The girls finally sets down her drink on the bar (leaning further into Bellamy as she does it) and nudges his arm. Bellamy straightens himself and moves his right arm around her waist once more. He tugs her closer and Clarke can see her eyes drop a few inches, before flickering back up, a coy smile on her lips. Clarke's stomach drops and she's knows what's about to happen. Bellamy leans in a bit closer, his head beginning to droop down to her level and Clare does something stupid.  Something really stupid.

 

* * *

 

            Bellamy is leaning forward to kiss perhaps the hottest girl he's been with in a while (and it's been a _long_ while) when he pocket starts buzzing.  At first he tries to ignore it, after all it's not polite to keep a lady waiting, but then the damn thing starts ringing.

_If you can see_

_I'm the one who understands you_ _  
Been here all along so_

_why can't you see_ _  
You belong with me_

            Bellamy scrambles to pull the device out of his pocket, only for it to get stuck on the corner.

            "Damn it!" He hisses under his breath and throws an apologetic glance to his date (Echo he remember at that moment.) Echo leans back against the bar with an amused look on her face, clearly finding the situation funny.

_You belong with me_

            Finally Bellamy pulls the phone free and sees none other than a picture of Clarke staring back. (He's long since changed the picture of her endeavor with the pizza to a more flattering picture of Clarke staring at the camera with a small smile on her face. Clarke still hated it, but Bellamy thought ~~she~~ it was perfect.)

            "Who is it?" Echo leans over to sneak a peek at the screen, "Your sister?" Her smile drops when her eyes glance down at Clarke's smiling face.

_I think I know where you belong  
I think I know it's with me_

            "Hold on," Bellamy slams his finger on the call accept button and whips around, "I'm going to _kill_ you."

            Her laughter fills his ears, "What's the matter, Blake? Am I interrupting something?"

            "As a matter of fact, you are." He growls.

            "What your date not like Taylor Swift?" she laughs, "I'm not sure she's a keeper then, Bellamy. You know with your-"

            Bellamy's shoulders tense , "How the hell do you know I'm on a date?"

            "Uhhh," she pauses, "Intuition?"

            Bellamy scoffs and begins to scan the bar. The only way she'd know the perfect time to interrupt, was if she was here watching. He spots a nervous looking Monty and an amused Jasper sitting at a table across the room, confirming his suspicion.  _I'm going to kill her_. He finally finds her against the bar to his far right, a smug smile on her lips.

            " _Clarke_ -"

            "Careful, Bellamy, looks like you're date's leaving."

            Bellamy whips around to find his date gathering her purse in hand and stalking towards the door. He curses and ends the call to chase after her. He lightly grabs her elbow just before she makes it out the door.

            "Hey I'm sorry about that." He scratches the back of his neck self-consciously, "Just a friend messing around."

            Echo turns around and gives him a look (one that screams he's an idiot.) "You want some advice, Bellamy?" He quirks and eyebrow, but nods slowly. "Don't ignore the girl you're about to kiss to answer another girl's call."

            "Look, I'm sorry it's just-" he quickly apologizes, but she cuts him off with a finger to his lips.

            "It's just that she's more important." She lowers the finger, "Look it's fine. You weren't looking for something serious and neither was I." She smiles and pats him on the cheek, "See you around, Bellamy." She walks off with a wave, and Bellamy just stands there trying to register what exactly just happened.

            _She's more important_. Well, of course Clarke is important, he's know her for the better part of  5 years now. (Most of which they spent at each other's throats, but things were better now.) But was she more important than his date? Granted he _wasn't_ looking for something serious, but that doesn't mean he should just leave a girl hanging. He was better than that.  (Okay well maybe not…) So why did he answer the call instead of just rejecting it?  As if on cue, his phone rings again, but this time he picks it up without waiting for the ringtone.

            "Bummer. She was totally hot too." Clarke sympathizes sarcastically.

            Bellamy whips around and lowers his phone. His eyes were slits and his jaw was clenched so tight it made his teeth hurt. He really was going to kill her. He takes three long strides and is across the room in record time. He looms over her, expecting her to back away, but she nonchalantly takes another sips of her drink, barely offering him a glance.

            "Don't worry, Blake. There's plenty of fish in the sea and all that jazz." She smirks.

            "What the hell is your damage, Clarke?" He growls, finally pulling her eyes onto his.

            She narrows her own eyes, "Don't get mad at me, because you can't keep a girl."

            "That's rich!" He scoffs, "Seeing how you so graciously sabotaged my date, not two seconds ago!"          

            "All I did was _call_ you Bellamy! If she can't take a joke, then clearly she wasn't a keeper."

            "How the hell would you know?! You didn't even meet her!"

            Clarke takes another sip of her drink, "Didn't need to."

            "You're a fucking basket case, you know that?"

            " _Excuse_ me?" She slams her drink down and straightens  her shoulders, "You need to calm the fuck down. It was a _joke_."

            "Yeah, well your 'joke' cost me my date!"

            "You're," she accentuates her point with a finger to his chest "the one who answered the phone and ignored your date. So if you're fucking keen on placing blame, why don't you take a good look in the mirror!"

            _She's more important._  Echo's words hang in the silence.

            "Uh guys?" They whip around to see Monty and Jasper standing a few inches away. Monty throwing apologetic looks over his shoulders and Jasper with a grin on his face that would make the Cheshire cat jealous. "You're kind of making a scene…"

            Bellamy and Clarke look around the room to see the entire room glancing in their direction and whispering. He turns back to Clarke in time to see her whole face tinge a bright pink. Bellamy smirks and she glares daggers at him.  Without another word she throws back her drink and storms past Monty and Jasper making a beeline for the back door. And being the masochist (let's face it, arguing with Clarke is like going to war) that he is , Bellamy follows, not quite ready to give up the argument.

 

* * *

 

            Clarke shoves her way into the alley and buries her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Damn, she should have brought a sweater. Before she gripe any more about the cold, out walks Bellamy, his jaw still clenched and his eyes hard.

            "I'm not done with you, Princess." He growls taking a step into her personal space.

            "Yeah well I'm done with _you_." She spits back, matching his step.

            "Well too damn bad!"

            "What the hell do you even want, Bellamy? You want an apology? Because hell will freeze over before I give you one!"

            "Why not? Afraid to admit you're wrong?"

            "Wrong for what?"

            "For ruining my date!"

            Clarke presses her mouth into a tight line. She thinks of the way the girl pressed herself against Bellamy. The way her eyes flicked down to his mouth and back. The way _he_ leaned in.

            "I will not apologize for that." She pushes past him.

            "And why not?!"

            She whips around, "Because you're _mine_!"

            The words slip out her mouth and she immediately regrets it. She takes a step backwards, her thoughts reeling to catch up with the weight of her words. What claim could she possibly have towards Bellamy? Sure she's know him for such a long time now, but that hardly constitutes ownership. Moreover, what does she care if he dates? She dates. Or well she dated. Besides Bellamy is like a brother to her. Okay well no that was a lie, brothers don't appear in the kind of dreams she had. (In her defense it was ~~five~~ one time.) But that doesn't mean she _owns_ him, she doesn't feel that way. Does she?

            Her mind flickers back to the bar and how her stomach twisted and her chest clenched every time he touched her and how the girl seemed to fit perfectly next to him. As if she was made to be there. Her stomach twist at the thought. _Oh shit._

            "Er, um…" Clarke babbles trying to come up with an explanation for her sudden confession for feeling she _just_ realized. "I didn't mean-"

            "What _did_ you mean?" He asks, his voice low and shoulders tense. He takes a step closer when she doesn't answer, "Clarke."

            It wasn't a question, but a command. But how the hell could she answer? _Oh you know just that I have possibly the hugest crush on you, and I only just realized now after ruining your date, because I was insanely jealous._ Yeah that sounds like a great response.

            Bellamy takes another step forward and Clarke steps back, but her foot connects with the alley wall. She was trapped.

            "Clarke!"

            She looks up  to see his eyes trained on her. Their harden gaze replaced with a softer one that seemed to beg her for an answer (which couldn't be true, because Bellamy Blake does _not_ beg. Demand, yes, but never beg.) Her eyes search his, as if the answer laid hidden in the deep pool of brown, he called eyes. What she saw instead, was her own eyes reflecting back at her, her pupils already dilating. Her eyes flicker down to his lips and she wonders exactly what it would be like to kiss Bellamy Blake. When her eyes meet his again, she decided she wants to know. Like right now.

            She grabs a handful of his shirt and tugs his face down so it's level with her own. She takes a moment to appreciate his confused look before crashing her lips against his own. It's not a perfect kiss by any measure, their noses bump and teeth clash, but he tastes like beer and relief and Clarke doesn't want to stop and first she wonders if she should, because his lips remain still against her own, and perhaps this is the worst mistake she's ever made. (God she hopes it's isn't.) But then his brain seems to register what's happening and his mouth finds her lower lip, and god if she thought he tasted like relief before, her heart was soaring.

            His body presses flush against her own and his heat sends a shiver down her spine. Her fingers release his shirt and worm their way up his chest and around his neck, getting lost in slight curls peeking out from his collar. She rakes a fingernails against his scalp and is rewarded with a shiver of his own.

            He pulls his mouth away and rests his forehead against her own, "Clarke."  He cracks open his eyes and she can see the once dominant brown only a ring around a wide circle of black.

            Clarke drags her hands through his hair, messing up the slick back look the gel created. When she pulls her hands away, his usual mop of curls are twisting this way and that. She tugs softly at a curl. "I always liked your hair better like this," She purrs.

            He growls and his lips crash back to hers, his teeth gently tugging on her lower lip and sucking it in his mouth. She can't help the moan that escapes and pulls him closer. Her mouth hungry for his and the way his hands trails down her sides before resting on her hips with a firm grasp. His tongue brushed against her upper lip and she parts them to allow him access. He smirks against her and his tongue darts across and entangles itself with her own. She can feel the pool of warmth between her legs and suddenly she needs more. She kisses more fiercely and pulls him even closer against her until her chest was pushed  tightly against his own. Her hips began to move against the growing bulge in his jeans. His mouth moves away from her own and trails down her jaw before stopping next to her ear.

            "Clarke" he voice is husky and the way her name rolls off his tounge sends sparks racing through her body, goose bumps rising in their wake.

            She brushes her lips against his jaw and down his throat, where she is greeted with another growl that sends a vibration through her. She kisses softly against his adams apple, before tracing it with the tip of her tongue. When she feels him press harder against her, slipping a leg between her thighs, she moves her mouth higher to his ear. "Shut up and kiss me, Blake." She takes his earlobe between her teeth and tugs gently. She is rewarded with another shiver. He brushes his nose against her jaw before trailing down to her collar bone. He kisses the bone softly before gently biting the skin right below, sucking in and flicking his tongue over the spot. Clarke lets loose another moan before grinding herself down against his thigh.

            He releases the skin with a soft pop and kisses it softly, moving back up to her lips. She captures his against her own viciously and drags her tongue across them. Her fingers tangle themselves further in his locks as their tongue slide against each other, causing him to release a throaty moan of his own. She can feel her lower stomach start to coil, but she need more friction. She need _more_.

            "Bellamy," She whimpers, grinding harder against him.

            He looks at her with hooded eyes blown with want and lust, before nodding and sliding a hand up her shirt and trailing over her ribs, before gliding down her stomach. His every touch leaving a trail of heat that drove her insane. When his fingers reached the button, his eyes found her, giving her one final chance to back out. Clarke sucked her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. Bellamy smiles and flicks open the button and trails his hand down lower to where she needs it most. When he reaches the waistband of her panties, he traces over the lace before slipping his fingers below and into her warmth.

            She sucks in a breath of air, when his finger brushed her clit and it throbs against his heat. He dips his hand lower and lower until he slides through her folds and teases her entrance.

            "God, Princess." He murmurs into her ear, his hand slowly sliding back up to circle her clit, "You're so fucking wet."

            Clarke moans and rolls against his hand. Yes, this was the friction she needed. She moans again, before his mouth finds hers and swallows the sound.

            "Those are mine." he growls and kisses her fiercely. She moans into his lips when he rolls her clit between two fingers with a gentle tug.

            Her hips are moving faster against him and she whimpers for more, the coil in her abdomen twisting tighter. He complies by lowering his hand once more and sliding a finger between her once more. He rubs her slowly before teasing her. She moans louder and rocks harder, encouraging him to continue. With a final smirk, he pushes a finger into her and crooks it up slightly to hit that spot she craved. She breaks from his lips and her hands curling tighter in his hair.

            "More. More." She pants

            He inserts another finger and slowly begins to pump them in and out of her. The coil tightens and tightens until she can feel ever stroke and it pushes her over the edge. Her orgasm rushes over her with a breathy moan and she rides it out with Bellamy slowing his movements before removing them to slowly circle her clit until it became too sensitive.  Clarke rests her head against his shoulder and her knees become weak, barely able to hold her own weight any more. Her forehead is slick with a thin layer of sweat and her hair sticks to her neck.

            Bellamy slowly removes his hand and bring his fingers to his lips. Clarke watches and he drags his tongue up the length of his finger and licks away her juices. He wraps his mouth around the two digits and sucks off the remaining juices, removing them with a soft pop. Clarke can feel her coil begin to tighten again and she hungrily captures his lips with her once more. She can taste herself on his tongue.

            The door opens and Bellamy pull his lips away and press Clarke closer against the brick wall, shielding her from prying eyes. When the two drunks that emerged from the bar make their way further down the alley, he pulls away.

            "Well that was close." He chuckles softly, resting his forehead against her own.

            She can't help but laugh as well, "A little _too_ close."

            His eyes find hers, "So." He smiles.

            "So?" she returns the smile.

            "Octavia's currently at your place waiting to ambush you."

            "Mmm," She hums. (Why isn't she surprised.)

            "So, maybe you'd like to come back to my place?" He offers, his nose brushing lightly against her cheek.

            "Why, Bellamy." She pulls back with mock astonishment, "Are you trying to take me home to bed me?"

            "That's exactly what I'm trying to do." He laughs, "And who the hell says 'bed me' anymore?"

            "Says the history major."

            He chuckles and lightly pecks her lips, "So, it that a yes?"

            "Mmm I don't know." She ponders, "Are you still mad about your date?"

            "What date?" His lips ghost hers.

            She wraps her arms around his neck and  brings her lips to his ear, a smug smile on her lips. (Take that nameless girl.) "Take me home, Bellamy."

            Bellamy growls and presses a hard kiss against her lips before taking her hand in his and dragging her out of the alley and to his car, so she can finish what she started. And finish she did.

           

## 4.      Blake Residence

            The sun is pouring in through the window and slowly creeping its way up the bed and into Bellamy's eyes. He throws an arm over his face and groans. He tries to roll onto his side, when he feels an unfamiliar weight on his left forearm.  Craning his head slightly, he lifts his arm up and peeks from under it, only to be blinded by the sudden change in brightness. When his vision adjusts, he sees a familiar fan of blonde hair splayed out against his black pillow.

            Following the strands down the pillow, he finds Clarke's sleeping face nuzzled in the crook of his elbow softly snoring. Her entire face relaxed and vulnerable, unlike the usual mask she wore around. The one that screamed that she has been to hell and back and could still kick your ass. (The mask that scared the hell out of him, but also kind of ~~secretly~~ turned him on.) Clarke groans and presses her nose further into his arm, causing Bellamy to let loose a soft chuckle.

            He leans back and looks at the clock on his bedside table. 9:30 AM. He didn't have to go into work today (and as far as he knew, neither did Clarke), so he could lay in bed for the rest of the day, if he pleased. He looks over at the sleeping girl next to him and doesn't think that's such a bad idea. He gently pulls her closer to his side, so she is snuggled against his chest and he can feel her heart beat against his ribs, and places a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

            If someone told him last night that he'd wake up snuggled with Clarke Griffin stark naked in his bed, he would have laughed in their face. Not because he disliked the idea of sleeping with Clarke (hell the thought's crossed his mind more than once), but rather he couldn't imagine Clarke, the queen of (or rather princess) of the I Hate Bellamy Club, wanting to sleep with him. Especially after their last fight. (Which he was in the complete right and she needs to stop being so stubborn.) Echo's words float back into his mind. _She's more important_. He looks down at the pale hands that wormed its way onto his chest and rested there. _She is_ , he thinks. Somehow this tiny typhoon of a woman had stormed into his life and took a seat in his heart without his noticing. No, that's not right. He thinks he's known all along that Clarke would be something special from the moment they met. No one could rile him up like she did. No one could stand up to him like her. No one could love his sister so whole heartedly as she did (except him of course). No one could replace Clarke Griffin. (Not that he'd thinks he'd try.)

            "Stop thinking so loud." She mumbles into his side.

            He smiles and  rest his cheek against her hair, "Sorry." He presses his lips against a lock of hair, "Didn't mean to wake you."

            She rubs an eye sleepily with the back of her wrist, "What time is it?"

            "Just a little after 9."

            "Mmm." She snuggles closer to him, tangling her legs with his. They lay there for a moment, enjoying the stillness of the room around them.

            "What were you thinking about?"

            "You."

            "Oh…" she pauses, "Do you… uh.. have second thoughts?"

            "Are you serious?"

            "I don't know, Bellamy." She pulls herself from him, "Maybe it was just a heat of a moment thing. I don't want to make you feel like you owe me anything…"

            "You're kidding me." He props himself on his elbows, "You think I'm lying in bed, _cuddling_ with you because you think I feel like I _owe_  you? " He laughs, "You're something else, Princess."

            She fidgets, "So, you don't regret last night?"

            He yanks her back down to the mattress and settles himself between her legs. he braces his arms on either side of her head, careful not to tangle himself in her hair, and stares deeply into those blue eyes that drove him insane.

            "Never." A blush floods her cheeks and spreads its way down her chest.

            "That's a pretty big statement, Blake." He can hear her unspoken message: _What if you're wrong?_

            He lowers himself so his lips hover over her own, "Well, I guess I'm just a risk taking kind of guy."

            "I think I like those odds." She whispers softly. His lips melt into hers. Unlike their kisses from last night that were feverish with desire, this one was soft and slow, like they were trying to memorize the curve of each other's mouths and the way they seemed to fit perfectly together in this moment.

            Bellamy breaks away and rest his forehead against hers. When he opens his eyes, they meet her own, which are bright with laughter and a smile slowly working its way on her lips.

            "What's so funny?"

            "You're sister is going to freak."

            He closes his eyes groans, "Urgh. Let's not talk about my sister, right now."

            "Jasper too." Bellamy groans louder and she laughs, "Not to mention Monty and Miller and-" ( They all actually have a bet on when these two were finally going to get together. Monty and Jasper are in for a lot of money.)

            Bellamy captures her lips with a growl, "I think the only one you're going to have to worry about right now is _me_."

            Clarke laughs, but wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down so he settles his weight against her own, "I think I can manage that."

            "Oh you can manage that, huh?" he smirks while raising an eyebrow.

            She quirks and eyebrow of her own, "Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to kiss me?"

            He answers her with another growl and pressing his lips against her own.

 

* * *

 

            "Bellamy? Have you seen my phone?" Clarke's tugging on her pants from the edge of the bed. "I don't see it laying around on the floor."

            She turns around to see Bellamy leaning against the headboard, still not dress (not that she was complaining) and with a sheet draped over his legs. He had a smirk on his face and he pointed to a spot just right of where she was sitting.

            "It kind of fell out of your pocket last night and never made its way to the floor."

            "Huh, that's odd." She reaches for the phone, but Bellamy grabs her wrist and pulls her back onto the bed.

            "Stay."

            She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move to get up, "You know Raven is probably about to send out a search party. I can't."

            "Screw Reyes."

            "You're sister is probably worried too."

            He winces at that, but tugs her closer, "Just text them."

            "Bellamy, I'm wearing yesterday's clothes and in a desperate need of shower. I need to go home."

            "Mmm," he nuzzles her cheek with his nose, "I could help with the shower part. In fact we could even share one."

            His breath tickles against her cheek and she shivers. "As great as that sounds, and trust me it sounds _wonderful_ , but I need fresh clothes." She turns and pecks him softly on the cheek before extracting herself, much to his dismay. "If you're going to throw such a fit," she laughs, "I guess you better ask me on a date tonight."

            "Hmm. I think I just might."  He taps his jaw, "Dinner at my place at 6?"

            She turns around and leans to kiss him again. "Sounds perfect" she mumbles against his lips.

            "It's a date."

            Clarke get up and slips on her shoes, "I'll see you then."

            "Until tonight, Princess."

            "See you later, Bellamy." She turns to go when her phone starts buzzing in her hand. She looks down at the screen to see Bellamy's picture staring up at her. Confused, she turns around to see Bellamy smiling at her with a shit eating grin plastered onto his face, phone in hand. Before she can ask why he's calling her, her phone starts belting:

_I just had sex_

_and it felt so good_

_A woman let me put my penis_

_Inside of her_

            Clarke's eyes dart from her phone back to Bellamy in complete disbelief.

            "You did _not_."

            His grin widens, "Oh I did."

            Clarke can't help her own smile, "You little shit."

            "Oh yeah?" He smirks, "What are you going to do about it?"

            She stalks over to him and shows him _exactly_ what she's going to do about it. Over and _over_ again. It's not until Raven and Octavia burst into the house hours later that Clarke and Bellamy remember that they forgot to text the two. (Octavia swears that she'll never be able to get the image out of her brain and Raven just smirked at the two of them saying it was about time. Clarke couldn't have agreed more.)

# 5\. Griffin - Reyes Residence

            Since what Octavia likes to dub the 'Saturday Incident,' it didn't take long for the rest of the group were privy of Bellamy and Clarke's new relationship status. Jasper literally cried (screaming something about his ship finally becoming canon. Don't ask.) and Monty had to calm him down. Miller and Lincoln just shared a simple smirk and congratulated the new couple and that  it was 'About fucking time,' in Miller's terms, not theirs. (Thought they rest certainly agreed.) Everything had fallen back into pretty much the same pattern, save Bellamy's ever present hand on the small curve on Clarke's back.

            The one thing that didn't change (and what everyone had hoped would) was Bellamy and Clarke's incessant arguing. In fact, Octavia swears it's gotten worse! Instead of arguing about mundane things such as cheese, they started arguing about mundane _couple_ things. Like who gets to bring who coffee in the morning or (Raven's personal favorite) who decides what to have for dinner at the weekly dinner. (This one usually ends in the two screaming at each other while the rest of them cower in fear in the corner.) The tipping point however was when Clarke brought up the idea of getting a tattoo and Bellamy was dead set against it for whatever reason. (Every time Octavia tries to bring it up he just growls and storms into his room.) They've been at it for at least a couple of months now, and it was safe to say that the group has had enough.

            "I can't take it anymore!" Jasper whines and collapses onto  the couch. "I hate when Mom and Dad fight."

            Monty nods his head in agreement and  leans back  in his seat next to Jasper, Miller snuggled comfortably between his legs on the floor. "This is getting ridiculous."

            "I'll say." Miller snorts, "We've even had to hide out at Raven's house just to get away from all the yelling." (Clarke was still at work luckily.) He shakes his head, "How is it that those two yell at each other for god knows what and still walk off hand in hand at the end of the night, but they get into one argument about one tattoo and everything goes to shit?"

            Raven sets her feet on the coffee table, tinkling with some weird device in her lap, "The make-up sex must be amazing."

            "Gross, dude!" Octavia shoves her shoulder from her position on the arm of Raven's chair, "I don't need to hear that. He's my _brother._ "

            "Well you _did_ already walk in on them." Jasper remarks, his head still thrown over the back of the couch.

            Octavia shudders, "Please don't remind me. That was a dark day in the Blake household."

            "Okay, seriously guys. How are we going to get them to stop, because I can't take Blake anymore at the precinct." Miller interjects, "He may be my partner, but I'm ready to shoot the guy."

            Monty nods his head sympathetically, "Clarke's been the same way. She practically bites the head off of any patient that crosses her path."

            "God forbid if her mother crosses her path." Jasper sits up with a look in his eye that says he's seen the horrors of war, "Abbey Griffin scares the hell out of me, but I pity the woman after Clarke got done with her." Monty squeezes his shoulder.

            "So what's the game plan?" Octavia asks, jumping up and putting her hands on her hips.

            The rest of them sit in silence, staring anywhere but at the younger Blake.

            "Well, I'm listening."

            "We could lock them in a room?" Jasper offers.

            Raven looks up and quirks an eyebrow, "You think sticking an angry Bellamy and an angry Clarke in a small _tight_ space will somehow _fix_ their problems?"

            Jasper frowns, "You're right. They'd rip each other to shreds." The others nod their heads solemnly.

            "What if we send them gifts and say it's from the other?" Octavia offers.

            Jasper and Monty vehemently shake their heads, "Terrible idea. Me and Monty tried that a couple of weeks ago. Didn’t end pretty, let me tell you."

            "Those poor delivery men…" Monty sighs.

            "Okay this is _so_ not helping." Octavia groans, "Why the hell do they have to argue like 5 year olds?"

            "Maybe it's some kind of weird foreplay. That or they just get a kick out of it." Miller snickers and Monty gently shoves his shoulder.

            "Maybe we should just prank them." Jasper ponders and everyone turns to him in disbelief.

            "And how exactly will _that_ help?" Raven rolls her eyes.

            "Well if we prank them, then their anger will turn onto the culprit, rather than each other."

            "But who is willing to sacrifice themselves and take the fall?" Miller questions. The room fall silent as they all look at each other.

            "Or maybe we just continue avoiding them?" Raven breaks the silence.

            It's a unanimous decision.

 

* * *

 

            "It is _my_ body Bellamy and you don't have a god damn say in what I do with it!" Clarke yells from across the kitchen. They've been at it for hours and frankly she's tired of having the same conversation over and over again. "What don't you get about that?!"

            "What I don't get is you possibly making a decision that you will regret later in life!" He growls back, slamming down the lid of a pot, "Why can't you see I'm only trying to look out for you?"

            "Because you're not 'looking out' for me, you're being an overbearing, misogynistic, asshole, who thinks he can control what I do with my body."

            "Misogyn- Are you fucking kidding me Clarke? We both know damn well that you do as you fucking please!"

            "Then why are you trying to stop me from getting the tattoo?"

            "Because it's a bad idea!"

            "Umm, guys?" Octavia nervously leans in through the archway, "Any way you can do this after dinner?"

            Clarke pivots around, "That depends, is your brother done being a complete asshole? "

            "I'm not being an asshole!"

            Clarke whips back around and pokes a finger into his chest, "Yes, Bellamy, you are. And frankly I'm sick of having this conversation with you. I am getting that tattoo."

            He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off with a hard glare and taking a step further into his personal space. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes this is closest she's been to him in a long time. (She won't admit it now, but she kind of misses it.)

            "No you listen, and you listen good, Blake. You don't want to see me get the tattoo, fine. Don't look. In fact, you never have to see that part of my body ever again!"

            "And what the hell do you mean by that?"

            "It means-"

            Before Clarke can finish that sentence her phone buzzes in her pocket and she angrily digs to try and get it out. Just as she pulls it out to see Bellamy's picture:

_Baby come back,_

_You can blame it all on me_  


            The room falls silent and Clarke looks at Bellamy in shock. Her face slowly turning a slight shade of pink.

_I was wrong_

_And I just can't live without you_

 

            The song cuts out and Clarke looks down at her phone it see a miss call notification. _What the hell?_ she thinks to herself. Clarke opens her mouth to say something, but Bellamy beats her to the punch,

"Clarke I-" Bellamy's phone begins to ring in his pocket:

 _If I should stay, I'll only be in your way_  
So I'll go, but I know I'll  
Think of you every step of the way  
  


            Bellamy slips the phone out and looks at the screen before looking back up at Clarke, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. Clarke raises an eyebrow, when he turns the phone around to reveal a picture of herself staring back at her.  Clarke looks down at her own phone, which has gone into sleep mode, then back at his phone.

 _And I will always love you_  
I will always love you  
You, my darling you, hmmm,  
  


            There was no way for her to be calling him so how-

            "When mommy and daddy fight it makes the children sad!" Jasper belts from the couch.

            Bellamy and Clarke share a look of confusion before the pieces click together. "Jasper did you-" Clarke sputter, still flustered from before, "Did you _change_ our ringtones, then _call_ us?"

            The room falls silence once more before Jasper bolts out of his seat (dragging poor Monty with him. The boy couldn't say no to his best friend.) "I regret nothing!" He screams before bolting out the front door, leaving it open in their wake.

            Clarke stands there dumbstruck, but Bellamy's eyes harden and he crosses his arms over his chest, "Do the rest of you have something to do with this?"

            The remainder of the group exchange wary glances, before Octavia opens her mouth, seemingly to explain, before bolting out the door after the other two. The rest of the room follows in a quick hurry.

            "What the hell was that about?" Bellamy grumbles as the door slams shut behind the last person.

            Clarke sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, "Probably another lame attempt to get us to stop fighting." She remembers the bouquet of sun flowers (her favorite) being delivered to her doorstep, with a simple note signed, Bellamy. She promptly threw the flowers back into the delivery guy's face and told him to tell Bellamy to go screw himself if he thinks he could buy her forgiveness. (Not one of her prouder moments.) She found out days later that Jasper and Monty had Miller order the flowers and fake Bellamy's handwriting.

            Bellamy sighs and slumps against the counter, running a hand over his face, "This is getting ridiculous, isn't it?"

            Clarke walks over and joins him against the counter, leaning her head onto his shoulder, "Yeah, it is."

            "What should we do?" He doesn't look her in the eyes. He can't.

            "I don't know, Bellamy. We can't keep going on like this. You're not happy, I'm not happy-"

            "But we were."

            "Yeah, we were." Clarke sighs, thinking back to the night after the bar, "Until this stupid tattoo came up." Bellamy's jaw tightens, but he remains silent. "Tell me, Bellamy." She starts, forcing him to finally look, "Why do you hate the idea of the tattoo so much?"

            Clarke couldn't see the big deal. She designed a simple tattoo consisting of three dates flowing together to create a an infinity symbol. (cliché but she loved the idea sue her.) She choose the birthdates of the only family she really has left: Bellamy and Octavia (her mother was a long story), and the final date was the day her father died.

            "What if you regret it?" He sighs, looking away once more.

            "I already told you, I've put a lot of thought into this and-"  
            "What if you regret _me,_ Clarke." He  thunders, "What if you _regret me_."

            Suddenly it all clicks. "Is that what you're worried about?"She takes a hand and forces his face to meet her own. "You think I'm going to regret you?" He adverts his eyes. "You look at me, Bellamy Blake."

            He hesitates, but finally he drags his eyes to meet her own.

            "I will _never_ regret you."

            "You don't know that, Clarke." His voice is low and his eyes soft.

            "No I do, and you want to know why?" She looks him hard in the eyes, the blue boring daggering into his brown, "Because before you were my boyfriend, you were family. The only family I knew after my dad died, besides Octavia. So even if this," she waves a hand between them, "Goes down in flames, I want you to always remember that, Bellamy. We were family first."

            A tear spills down her cheek and she angrily wipes it away, "I can’t lose any more family okay?" She thinks of the third date. She's not sure she could handle another one, without breaking some part of her. She _needed_ him to understand this. "We were family _first_."

            He pauses for a moment and watches as another tear swells in her eyes. When it finally breaks through and trails down her cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. "Okay." He wraps her in his arms and squeezes her tight against him.

            "Next time you try to tell me what to do with my body though, you're getting hurt." Clarke mumbles against his chest.

            "I'll remember that." He laugh and slackens his grip to place a small kiss on her forehead. "I missed you."

            "Well that's your fault." She scoffs, leaning to look up at his face, "You just _had_  to go an over think things in the usual Bellamy way. What happened to 'I'm a risk taking kind of guy'?"

            "It sounded right for the moment." He admits, ears turning a red.

            "That's such a guy thing." She laughs, but rest her head against his chest. "I think we burned dinner."

            Bellamy turns his head to see his  pot boiling over and quickly moves to shut off the flame. "Yeah, that's a lost cause…"

            Clarke  plants her chin against his sternum, "Well maybe not a total loss." He turns around and she raises an eyebrow suggestively.

            "Hmm, I don't know. I was pretty hungry." He smirks, pulling her tighter.

            "Bellamy."

            "Yes?"

            "Shut up and kiss me."

            "Geez, you're so bossy, Princess."

            "You know you love it."

            He presses his lips to hers and thinks to himself, _Yeah, I do_. But that's a thought for a different time.

            Hours later, when the rest of the group will venture back into the Blake residence (purely to make sure the two didn't somehow kill each other when they ran) they find the kitchen a mess and a string of clothes leading to the shut door down the hall. They dub this time, The Jasper Incident. (Jasper couldn't have been more proud.)

**Author's Note:**

> God was that too cheesy? I hope it wasn't too cheesy (oh who am I kidding I love cheese!) On another note, thank you thank you thank you for picking this fic and reading it to the end! I just hope that the smut scene didn't make you cringe too bad
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr @ AwfullyBashful! I love to hear from you all and I'm always looking for prompts to write


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